


He Chose Ice

by amaradangeli



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M, Ice Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 16:30:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9333437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amaradangeli/pseuds/amaradangeli
Summary: "Sir," she said, her best soldier voice in place, "I think they think we're... together."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Art work by Samantha-Carter-is-my-muse.
> 
> Beta by Fems. But any remaining issues - grammatical or otherwise - are because I just had to stop fussing with it and get it up.

There was ice in a bowl next to the bed. The _only_ bed. The bed that he was currently standing shoulder to shoulder with Major Carter staring at. 

"Sir," she said, her best soldier voice in place, "I think they think we're... _together_." 

"Ya think?!" His voice was about an octave too high and he cleared it before trying again. "It's clear they think we're together. Where's that Nasturtium? I'll set him straight and we'll get another room." 

"Naturum," she corrected automatically. "I can just go bunk with Daniel. It's not a big deal." 

He shot her a look. Was she nuts? She _wasn't_ going to go bunk down with Daniel. Not that he thought anything untoward was happening between the two junior members of the team, but it was the principle of the matter. "That doesn't actually solve the problem of being short a room. And besides, Daniel and Teal'c have a suite of rooms – both beds are already occupied. Where were you planning on sleeping, pray tell?" 

She colored attractively. And boy did he _not_ need to be thinking attractive thoughts about her under the circumstances. "What do you think the ice is for?" she asked rather than answer his question. 

He shot her another look, this time with a raised eyebrow that would have made Teal'c proud. 

"No," she scoffed. 

"Yeah," he countered. 

She made a disbelieving face, and he was pretty sure that was what caused him to move to the bowl to retrieve a piece of the ice that was the subject of their conversation. Because never, without provocation, would he consider tantalizing his major with ice. Well, it _sounded_ good, anyway. He smirked to himself just before he turned around with his prize. 

"Come here." 

She looked at him warily but did as he asked anyway, always good at following orders. Even when she probably suspected they were treading a very fine line. Even when she was probably sure whatever he was going to do was going to catapult them over it. 

"Give me your hand." 

Instantly her hand was outstretched between them, palm down, unsuspecting. He grabbed it and turned it over, exposing the sensitive inner skin of her wrist. With his left hand he held hers, with the right he touched the edge of the ice cube to her skin. She jerked backwards but he didn't let her jerk out of his grip. 

"Cold," she objected. 

"I know, that's the point." 

Her eyebrows knitted together as she watched him hold the ice cube to her skin long enough for a bead of water to go racing down the curve of her wrist. Then, he moved the ice cube in a slow, winding pattern over her skin. Up, up, up towards the bend of her elbow. She sucked in a breath as he passed the ice over what must have been a sensitive spot on his way back down her arm towards her wrist. 

"See?" he asked her. "Ice." 

She nodded dumbly for a moment and he realized he was still drawing patterns on her skin with the rapidly melting ice cube. He popped the ice cube in his mouth then leaned down and blew a cold stream of air onto the watery tracks on her arm. She shivered. 

He knew he'd already gone too far. He was pushing her in a way he wasn't allowed to, wasn't entitled to. But there was a heavy, curious look in her eyes that caused something inside him to shift. Maybe they were _both_ tired of playing the little game that was between them. Interested, but not too interested. In love, but not _too_ in love. Not enough to be a problem. Not enough to separate the team.  

He thought about her, on the wrong side of a force shield. It was a recent enough memory that he could still feel the heat that had bloomed in his belly when he realized he wasn't going to be able to get to her. And the way it had risen to his face when he saw the same look he was giving her reflected in her eyes. She felt the same way! 

And then they had decided to lock away whatever was between them in a room somewhere. He had the sudden feeling they'd been shown to that very room this evening. He realized he was still holding her hand and gazing into her eyes as the last remnants of the ice cube melted on his tongue. He saw the moment she decided that whatever was happening wasn't a monumental fuck up. The resistance in her eyes faded away and she gave him a soft, trusting look he'd never seen on her before. 

She shrugged one shoulder. "So... ice." 

He nodded dumbly, not quite certain if they were crossing the line or not. 

She quirked her lips. "I'm not sure I see what the big deal is." 

That sounded like a challenge. A challenge he was ready to answer. He tugged her a step closer and then reached behind him for another ice cube. His fingers fumbled until they found purchase on one slippery crescent. This time, he touched the ice cube to her throat. She gasped, but if it was from his boldness, the coldness or the contrasting warmth of the tips of his fingers, he wasn't sure. 

Then, she tilted her head to one side, letting her eyes fall closed. Her lips parted sensually. He watched as a drip of water meandered down her throat to get absorbed by the cotton of her t-shirt. Over the newly accessible skin of her neck he passed the ice cube. When it was small enough to not be a burden, he popped that one, too, into his mouth and then, wishing for courage – his and hers – he leaned forward and pressed his warm lips to hers.  

He watched her eyes spring open and then slip closed again. He closed his too and concentrated on the feeling of their warm lips fitted together so perfectly. But it wasn't, exactly, what he wanted to give her. He probed at her lips with his tongue and she opened to him immediately, trusting, in a way that made him feel ridiculously proud of himself and burdened to be everything she expected of him and more. 

Her tongue was like fire against his cold one and they both groaned at the sensation. He was spurred on by the sounds she was making, now convinced that she wasn't about to push him away in a fit of responsibility. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in tight against him. She came so willingly that he wondered for how long she'd been accessible to him. 

His hands found the warm skin of her back as he tugged her shirt out of her trousers. She writhed against him sinuously as he passed his hands from the small of her back to her shoulder blades, rucking her shirt up with the movement.  

She made an impatient sound then and broke off the kiss that was now nothing but heat as her mouth had warmed his. She looked him in the eye and then with a speed and dexterity that impressed him she whipped her shirt over her head. He couldn't help but look down at her breasts as they were exposed to him for the first time. Her bra was flesh colored and utilitarian, nothing sexy, but she was pale and perfect against it, the swells of her breasts calling to him in a way he had to answer. 

Once more, without taking his eyes off of her, he reached behind him for yet another ice cube. She looked at him trustingly as he laid the cube against her shoulder and then trailed it, slowly, across her chest and down to one perfect swell. She made a whimpering sound as her nipple beaded up and pressed against the fabric of her bra. 

He was glad they were doing this by degrees, because he didn't want to rush his view of her body. In truth, wasn't exactly sure how far she was going to let him take such a game. But she _had_ removed her shirt and bared herself to his gaze. 

He couldn't really believe what was happening so quickly, so easily between them. He wondered, for a moment, if they'd ingested something at dinner but no, he was too clear-headed and her eyes were too bright and focused. This was simply a reaction to their chemistry and nothing more. 

The melt from the ice cube curved around her breast and disappeared into the flesh colored fabric that covered her. It was mesmerizing to watch. When he'd sufficiently cooled her skin with the cube he caught her eye then leaned down and, just after breaking their eye contact, trailed the flat of his warm tongue over a track of water and then sucked against the place where he'd let the ice cube sit and chill her skin uncomfortably. 

He reached around behind her and, after searching her eyes for permission, popped the hooks on her bra. She helped him remove the garment and then she stood there, seemingly comfortably, topless before him. Her nipples were the same pink shade of her lips and his tongue was fairly begging him for the opportunity to wrap around one hardened bud. 

But it wasn't time yet. He dropped his hands to her belly button. With a small nod she gave him the necessary permission to unbutton and unzip her trousers. Both their hands pushed the fabric over her hips and to the floor. Then she was standing there in front of him in plain white cotton underwear. Her pants gathered around her ankles, trapped there by her boots. 

She made the picture of the perfect, almost-debauched soldier and any latent arousal that had been coursing through him surged to life. Giving no heed to his knees, he dropped to one in front of her and divested her of first one boot and then the other. His work revealed two strong yet slim feet, with a shock of burgundy on her toes. It made him smile as he'd never really pegged her for the type. 

He stood, if a little creakily, and guided her to the bed. He coaxed her to lie down. She touched the waistband of her underwear and gave him a curious look but he just shook his head. The time to take those off would be coming soon enough and he needed to keep his wits about him a little longer. And her removal of that final garment was going to make that a challenge. 

He stretched out next to her on the bed, propping his head up with one hand. With another cube of ice he began drawing looping scrawls on her flat belly. He dipped into her belly button and drew it up over her breasts, studiously ignoring her nipples for one, two, three cubes. She shifted on the bed, attempting to draw the icy prize over the place her body was telling her it was needed most. He chuckled at her once or twice drawing a look of consternation to her features. It was an odd mix of distress and arousal that waged war on her face. 

Finally, with a fourth cube he started teasing her once more. Only, once he made tracks to her nipple, he took pity on both of them and swirled the ice cube around the tight little nub. She made a low, moaning sound that went straight to his cock and caused him to groan in concert.  

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.- 

Her clit was pulsating between her legs. She pressed them together for some relief and he, damn him, chuckled once more at her expense. Secretly, she loved that he enjoyed teasing her – she was really enjoying his brand of teasing. But, by the same notion, she was ready to move on to the part where he filled her completely. But she suspected that there was more of the ice play to come. 

Sure enough, the next ice cube landed right about the elastic waistband of her panties. He followed the band from midline to left hip, then all the way over to her right hip. She widened her legs to give him room to draw the ice cube over her warmest place. In her mind she wasn't even sure she wanted that, but her body seemed to be telling them both something different. She lifted her hips in an attempt to force his hand downwards but he remained steady at the band of her underwear. When the ice was all but gone, this cube, too, he popped in his mouth. 

"Sir," she said breathily, in that way she'd only ever gasped when alone. In her room. When she was taking care of herself. "Please." She licked her lips and met his eye. 

He was watching her face, not her body and she found that intoxicating. "Take off your underwear now," he said, his ice-cooled breath teasing the warm skin of her cheeks. 

Like lightning she moved to pushed them down and shimmy them off her body. She kicked her feet and sent the garment flying to the floor. She widened her legs again, in preparation for his hands. But instead, he grabbed the little bowl of rapidly dwindling ice cubes, and he moved his entire body. Down, down, down the bed he went until he was situated in the space created between her calves. Her breath caught. Because she suddenly knew that the contrast of cold and heat was going to be divine. 

Without ceremony he pressed a piece of ice against her mons. It made her hips buck and a squeaking sound issue from the back of her throat. Damn, but that ice was cold. Especially near to the place that seemed to be giving off the most heat. With no warning he slipped the ice down the seam of her sex, dipping it between her flesh and teasing her heated hole with the end of the cube. She gasped at the sensation. 

But it still wasn't exactly what she wanted. She almost hated to admit it, but she wanted the experience of the ice on her clit. She was practically panting for it. She never dreamed, when he started this, that she'd end up a willing slave to the frozen water, but here she was. Or maybe, she countered, she was a willing slave to _him_. Whatever it was he wanted to do to her, she was game. Especially if he could arouse such feelings within her. 

He maneuvered himself until he was situated between her legs, his face level with her sex. She exhaled a shuddery breath. Another ice cube made an appearance and she felt him trace the cube up one petal of flesh and then down the other. She shifted her hips. She could feel both the cold of the ice and his breath and it was a heady combination. 

Then, suddenly, the ice was replaced by the heat of his tongue. She hissed as he swiped his tongue up the seam of her catching the hood of her clit and igniting the embers that were burning inside her. She made a voweletic sound that seemed to fill the room and he looked up at her, over her body and it might have been the sexiest thing she'd ever seen – his silvery-grey head between her legs as his rich, chocolate brown eyes met hers. Then, he was all of that with a smile on his face and she could have melted right through the bed. 

Another ice cube and she felt the way he probed her with it, fitting it just a fraction of an inch inside her body. The cold was overwhelming but incredible. Again, his tongue followed the ice and then, again, the ice was on her skin. He followed this pattern through the ice cube and the beginning of another when, suddenly, when she was least expecting it and yet completely primed for it, he slicked the cube over her throbbing clit. She cried out, an unintelligible sound. 

And then his lips were wrapped around the tiny bundle of nerves and he was applying suction. As soon as her body acclimated to that sensation, he had changed to flicking it with the tip of his ever-dexterous tongue. And then he was laving it with the flat of his tongue. Then again with the flicking. Then back to the sucking. She felt like a river was running between her legs. She could feel herself growing ever-wetter, slick and slippery. 

Suddenly, his icy cold fingers were inside her and pressing against the little patch of nerves that brought her incredible pleasure. She gasped his name, then, his actual mother-given name and they both stopped. Their eyes clashed and he surged up her body like a great cat and then captured her mouth in a heated kiss that tasted of her juices and caused her hips to buck into his. 

She could feel how hard he was, how he was fully ready to take her. And she was ready to be taken. 

"Now, now, now," she said, pushing at his clothing, wanting him as naked as she was, wanting to feel his arousal-flushed skin pressed against hers. It took a flurry of movement and both of them holding his body up off the bed and her to get him undressed, but soon, his trousers were around his ankles and his heavy cock was against her hip. She could feel his own fluid seeping out against her, causing his sensitive tip to slip, slide over her skin.  

He chuffed out a breath and thrust against her, finding his pleasure in the flat planes of her body rather than inside her wet heat. She bit his earlobe gently to spur him into action, and whispered her entreaty once more against the shell of his ear. "Now." 

With a shift he found his place again between her legs. And then it was only another full breath before he was sliding inside her. Inch by inch he claimed her body. She felt herself relaxing to accommodate his size but it was almost embarrassing how easy his entrance to her body was, how very wet she'd grown for him. But he didn't seem to find fault with it. 

His thrusting was regular and well timed, just hard enough to jostle her body on the bed and make her breasts bounce in an arousal-heightening way. She found she was whispering into his ear words of encouragement and affirmation. Every other thrust his body dropped and his chest dragged over hers, his sparse hairs catching at her nipples causing sparks to skitter down her body to settle in her clit. 

She felt the pleasure coil up as his thrusts lost their rhythm. She dug her fingernails into the fleshy part of his back, above and behind his hips. He hissed with what sounded like pleasure and dropped his lips into her hair whispering to her, "Come. Come for me now." 

His gravelly voice pushed her over the edge. He stopped thrusting while her body clenched around him and he groaned with more pleasure as she squeezed him intimately. When her movements calmed and she released her death grip on his back to smooth her hands over his tanned skin he took up his thrusting again this time with more speed and determination.  

It didn't take long before he was pressing his hips into her, holding still, pressing her thighs wide open, and emptying himself inside her. "Carter," slipped through his lips and she  knew then that the use of her last name had never, ever been about distance because there was absolutely no distance in the way he'd said her name in that moment. 

When he moved off of her she felt almost bereft without his weight. She rolled, curled into his side, cuddled up to him in a way she'd never done after sex, not ever. She couldn't get enough of him, of the feel of him, of the smell of him – she licked the skin nearest to her, a pectoral – the taste of him. 

It took a long time for them to come down from their high, for words and ideas to matter again, but when they did she was expecting him to tell her that they shouldn't have done what they'd just done. But instead he said, "So. Ice." 

She giggled and buried her face in his skin. He tightened his arms around her. And soon, she drifted off to sleep. 


End file.
